𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘎𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘉𝘜𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 | ʀᴅʀ

Chapter Twenty-Three

Finally having lost them, the trio pulled to a stop at the top of the canyon, out of view and secluded behind a cluster of rocks.

Rosalie breathed heavily and tugged down her bandana. She took off her hat and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist as she caught her breath.

Not much had changed in the last couple of years. Rosalie's hair was still down to her waist, but pulled back into a long, messy French braid due to the stifling Texas heat, though a few strands were stubborn, curling at her hairline and sticking to the sides of her face. She wore a dark red button-up, sleeves rolled to her elbows, black stitching at the shoulders of her shirt, and cream saddle pants with her brown boots. A black neckerchief was tied around her throat, but hung loose due to the high temperatures.

"That was some wild ridin'," Mac grumbled, also fighting to catch his breath as he looked around under the brim of his white cowboy hat, his tan face glistening with sweat. His gray, pinstripe button up was loose and rolled to his elbows, black leather vest over top a bit dusty from their chase.

John didn't say anything and looked off to the side with a grimace. His brown button up was also loose and rolled to his elbows, suspenders holding up his black pants that were covered in dust.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue, urging Blitz forward. "Come on. Let's just head back. I've had enough fun for today... could use a drink."

"Old lady," John grumbled.

"Shut up." Mac shot back, riding beside Rosalie, John lagging behind them.

John only scoffed in response and looked off to the side. He followed behind them begrudgingly like a kid being put in time out by his parents, keeping quiet the rest of the way back to camp.

It was a short ride, thankfully, but they returned to camp soon after and without any trouble.

Their camp was a good size, and they had a decent amount of money too from their recent robbery up north that pushed them down towards Texas.

After hitting a much larger bank, the law had come much too close for comfort and narrowly closed in on their camp, so they quickly packed up and moved as far as they could. The travel had been long and exhausting, but they'd picked their spot a few weeks back and had settled in well enough. It was too hot for Rosalie's liking, especially in the dead of summer when the sun persisted and she felt like a cooking chicken most of the time, but they were safe and had a decent amount of money to keep them well, so that was good enough for her.

Rosalie rode up and dropped off her horse, handing the reins off to Richy, who was sweating, his dark hair matted to his forehead.

"Hey there," Rosalie greeted kindly. "You staying cool?"

Richy nodded with a weak smile as he took Blitz. "Ah... I mean, I'm tryin' to, but it's real hot out here, ma'am! I feel like I'm meltin' sometimes..." He trailed off, looking off to the side.

Mac laughed and handed Richy the reins to Annie as well. "Yeah, I get your meanin' friend. I feel like my skin is on fire out here. Ain't that different from where I grew up, though."

John tried to hand his reins over to Richy, but he shook his head, giving John an apologetic smile. "Ah, sorry! I ain't got enough hands. If you wait here I can come grab him though—"

"Nah," Rosalie interjected, giving John a smug look. "I think you can take care of your own horse this time. Don't you agree?"

John grumbled and turned away, pulling Chester with him. He didn't even put up a fight, but he wasn't happy about it as he went, in a sour mood from his botched job and Rosalie's berating.